


From the Earth

by grandaddy-latin (espressorobotics)



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Original Character(s), Slow Burn, no seriously it's gonna take me a few chapters before these idiots even tolerate one another, will add tags as we progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espressorobotics/pseuds/grandaddy-latin
Summary: Angela Maria Luna has settled in at Artemis Farm to do something she never imagined; grow some crops, discover magic, and fall in love.Daniel Shane Rodriguez has no interest in anyone in Pelican Town excepting his goddaughter, and thus is caught off guard when the new farmer draws him in with simple kindnesses and unexpected friendship.The relationship is a catalyst for both, a spark of change that neither person knew they needed so desperately to grow from the traumas they share.





	From the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a long haul, folks, and frankly I don't care if I'm the only one who reads it. It's going to be bad (I wrote these first couple of chapters months ago and who knows how my writing has changed since then) but it gets better. That's all I can say. That, and I hope yall enjoy the slowest of slow burns. The oven isn't even on yet.

Sunday nights were the only night of the week that the Stardrop Saloon was really and truly crowded. The small bar was made just large enough to hold all three dozen of Pelican Town’s residents, and while it was usually never pushed even close to its capacity, Sunday nights always came close. The gridball game and the general lack of work to do on a typical Sunday led to almost every seat being filled, creating a room that was as boisterous and rowdy as was ever seen in the usually quiet village, and leaving the two bartenders in a state of mild to moderate panic.

If the rest of the week wasn't a literal hell on earth, it would be Shane's least favorite day of the week.

As it was, he supposed it could be worse. Having only lived in Pelican Town for a couple of months, he had already managed to alienate himself; no one dared approach him besides Gus himself, the owner of the Stardrop, and his employee Emily. The rest of Pelican Town - excepting Marnie and Jas, of course - had already rightfully pegged him as an unapproachable drunk. This meant that despite the crowd of villagers huddled in the too-small bar, the seat on his left was blessedly empty, leaving only him with his back to the fireplace and his eyes on the gridball game.

Unfortunately for Shane, this empty seat was the only one in the whole of the saloon. And all of Pelican Town had yet to arrive.

The cheery chime of the door to the bar opening and closing barely registered in Shane's mind, which was finally beginning to buzz pleasantly after only Gus knew how many beers. In fact, not much was registering in his mind at all, and that was how he liked it best; everything slightly blurred and far away, all aspects of his life made just a little bit easier to ignore. This was what he had come here for, after all. That gentle, sweeping dullness to counter a reality he didn't want to deal with.

However, reality crept back up when a figure he didn't recognize - one that was short and brown and just a little fuzzy - began heading in his direction. He squinted as it approached, trying to make heads or tails of what appeared to be a woman walking towards him, rather than away. Why didn't he recognize her? Was he really that drunk, that he couldn't recognize one of the two dozen people in this town he'd already told to fuck off?

It wasn't until the woman had sat herself down on the stool next to him that Shane realized that he didn't recognize her for a reason; he had, in fact, never seen her before. It took a few long seconds, in which the woman ordered her drink from Emily and began to turn to him for Shane to remember that Marnie had mentioned a few days ago that someone had moved into the abandoned Luna family farm.

_Great. Please don’t speak. Not a goddamn word towards me, please-_

"Hey, this seat wasn't taken, right?" The girl's voice hummed its way into his brain, low but friendly. He made a vague attempt to focus on her face, then gave up when she tried to make eye contact. "I'm Angie. What's your name?"

_No._

He turned his eyes to the table in a distinct, I'm-trying-to-ignore-you way, and gave a noncommittal grunt instead. That was usually enough for most people to move on, but this girl seemed content simply to talk at him.

"Cool, cool. You look pretty wasted, doubt you understand a word I'm saying," she chattered quickly, seeming anxious in this environment. "No big deal. Didn't have anything interesting to say anyway. But tell me your name as soon as you remember how."

Shane couldn't help his growing irritation at her assumptions. He wasn't even that drunk - but arguing with this eager stranger would likely only provoke conversation, one that he didn't want to have. So, unable to counter her accusations and unwilling to provide his name, he simply shrugged and drained the last of his beer, letting the slow-moving foam drip down into his mouth for the umpteenth time that night.

The woman next to him drummed the bar with her fingers. He recognized the nerves of being in a crowded bar of strangers, of being out of place - he had felt the same way his first few times at the Stardrop, knowing that all eyes were on him simply because he was new in town. Luckily, she had come along to steal the spotlight; that, and his anxiety at being watched had faded a few beers back.

Blue hair and red dress all too bright under the lantern light, Emily approached from behind the bar, holding a short glass that she passed to the woman with her classic smile and a command to "Enjoy it, sweetie." Shane judged by the dark amber color and the spicy aroma that stung his nose even from a distance that she had ordered the cheapest rum the Stardrop offered.

"Another, Shane?" Emily offered, turning to him with an undeserved smile. Sometimes he hated how nice she was to him, even after months of being her regular. She was one of few people who seemed to do more than just tolerate him - but, maybe that was just the cheery bartender persona. "You paid enough for one more, but after that you'll be starting a tab."

He frowned into his mug for a number of reasons, the primary one being that he wasn't going to be nearly drunk enough to fall asleep after just one more beer. The other being that Emily had just revealed his name to the stranger, whose gaze flitted curiously back and forth between him and the blue-haired bartender.

But, one more drink would at least bring him one step closer to a dreamless sleep. Or at least, that was his hope. Shane swallowed, the earthy and bitter taste familiar in the back of his throat. "Yeah, bring me the last one."

Emily nodded, red dress fluttering around her ankles as she grabbed Shane's empty mug and turned on her heel in one graceful motion, leaving him alone with the new girl once again.

"So you _can_ talk," said the girl, her tone now less anxious and more joking. He felt her eyes on his face, but refused to meet them, feeling strangely vulnerable without a drink to hide his face in.

When he did not reply, the woman sighed. Shane barely saw out of the corner of his eye as she lifted her glass and downed half of it as if she were taking a shot, then watched her grimace and cough with vague amusement. _Fast drinker._

"I won't bite," she muttered, her voice made a touch gravelly after coughing. "Just wanted to make friends."

With that, she downed the rest of the rum, seemingly unaffected this time. Emily came along with his final beer of the night at the same time, though her eyes were locked on the new girl and wide with concern as she threw back the liquor like a champ. Shane would have been impressed, if he weren't more invested in the full mug of beer Emily had set before him.

"One more, please?" The woman asked, sliding her glass to Emily. "Just the same thing."

Emily took the glass with a smile and a nod, but gave Shane a look as she turned away, almost as if to say, _What's up with that?_ Shane could only shrug in response, his attention now fully lost to his beer.

Unfortunately, the beer was gone before the woman was, and Shane couldn't seem to shake her off. Even as the other patrons began to head home over the next half hour, leaving empty seats she could easily move to, she stayed by his side and took her sweet-ass time with that second glass of rum.

He happened to drain his glass at the same time that she finished hers, and made the mistake of shooting her a sideways glance out of sheer curiosity. She instantly returned his gaze, forcing him to meet her eyes for the first time all night. 

They were dark brown. The color of dark rum, he thought. Not the light, spiced stuff she had just downed, licking the last drop from the edge of her lips. Shane grimaced and she shot him a smile - less polite and more tipsy, but still just as friendly as when they had started. 

Shane felt hot suddenly, like the fireplace behind him had suddenly flared with heat - only the warmth was in his face, not his back. He shoved his barstool back and got to his feet, feeling very much like he needed to be outside in the cool spring air and not in here, with a half-dozen people who hated him and one who hadn't quite gotten the memo yet.

He stumbled outside in a hurry, though he wasn’t sure why. The woman’s friendly attitude threw him off; only a month or two in Pelican Town, and he had already grown accustomed to the universal hatred he had cultivated among its citizens. Out in the cold now, and thinking about it more carefully, Shane was almost pissed at himself for reacting so strongly to one smile from a cute stranger.

_Not cute. Irrelevant. Don’t let her talk to you again._

He turned in the direction of Marnie's ranch - a fifteen minute walk that always sobered him all too quickly - and tried to remember in which cabinet his aunt had put the brandy she cooked with. Half a dozen beers wouldn't put him to sleep, but something had to, and the bottle of rum under his dresser had been drained the previous night.

_Shame,_ he thought, craving rum. _Damn shame._

\---------

His alarm the following morning was shrill and pervasive, worming its way into his ears past a pounding headache to twist in his brain like an angry vine. Shane groaned, tasting liquor on his cottony tongue and trying desperately not to retch as he stood to turn off the beeping clock on the dresser across the room.

After that, he stumbled into the bathroom to heave - but found nothing in his stomach, and was instead forced to sit on the cool tile floor until the head-spinning nausea passed. Normally a hangover like this could be easily cured by more alcohol; but before he could let himself think about how much better he’d feel after a few swigs from the brandy bottle now stashed under his bed, the bathroom door creaked open and a small, frizzy-haired head poked its way in.

Six years old and altogether too smart for her age, Shane’s goddaughter Jasmine slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, kneeling next to him with a wide-eyed look that told Shane how shitty he must look this morning.

“You okay, Uncle Shane?” She asked, adopting the title she’d been calling him practically since she was born. A small frown put a crease in her brow that made her look much older than six. “You don’t look so good.”

Shane forced a smile, ignoring the way his head throbbed when she reached up to touch it. “I’m fine, kiddo. Just a little sick.”

Jas frowned harder, apparently not convinced, and tried to fix his hair. “You’re sick a lot. And Marnie says you’re not doing well. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The last thing Shane needed was for his ward to be concerned about him, rather than the other way around. The look of worry, too mature for such a young face, felt like a punch to the gut, and he swallowed hard.

“Go get your hair box, Jas. I’m fine.”

At the mention of her hair box Jas nodded, racing back to her room and returning with a small crate full nearly to bursting with elastic bands, spray bottles, and other assorted products that would eventually make their way into Jas’ hair. While Shane stood and tried unsuccessfully to rub the sleep and the hangover from his eyes, Jas set the box on the bathroom counter and raced back out again, returning this time with a stool from the kitchen.

Their morning ritual was one of few things that made Shane wake up day after miserable day. Jas had thick, curly, frizzy hair that required attention every day, and even when her parents had been around, Shane had often volunteered to take care of the textured mass floating around her head. His hands began working on autopilot as soon as Jas sat herself on the stool in front of him, combing and gelling and spraying as necessary until the whole thing was tamed and firmly secured in Jas’ favorite green bow.

Jas nodded with approval and hopped off the chair, giving Shane’s leg one last hug before running off to the kitchen, shouting demands over her shoulder: “Feel better, okay? You’re sad when you’re sick. And the Egg Festival is tomorrow, and we _have_ to go!”

_Shit._ The Egg Festival. He knew he was forgetting something. Shane ran a hand through his own hair, greasy yet somehow still sticking up in all the wrong places, and splashed a handful of water on his face before heading toward the kitchen. The brandy would have to wait until the Egg Festival had passed, but coffee - he could smell it already, like a caffeinated siren song - would suffice in its place.


End file.
